Eva Runs Through It

Washington DC Rock and Roll Half Marathon When I left work on Thursday, I told my co-teacher, that he was going to have to live without me for a day.  It went something like this: Co-teacher:  What are you up to now?! E:   Off to DC to run a half marathon with my son and his friend. Co-teacher:  Do you ever get tired of inspiring people? E:  You know that’s not why I do this.  I just want the memory with my son. Co-teacher:  I’m pretty sure that you are going to do both. But, memory building truly was what I was seeking.  Noah is not ready to leave the nest, but with only two years left of high school, I can certainly see the outline of his flight pattern.  I had planned this trip months ago, with the idea that my kid would run his first marathon, with mom by his side as coach, cheerleader, and crew.  A few weeks ago, Noah approached me, worried.  With hockey up to six days a week, tennis, and ...

             We have this old wooden swing at my parent’s house.  Dad bought it as a Mother’s Day gift.  It is perfectly placed facing Monponsett Pond and provides the ideal vantage point for a spectacular sunset view.   Dad’s handiwork is still evident, with his brick work (so you don’t kill the grass) and homemade arm shelves to hold your snack, or if you are any member of the Kaloshis family except me, your beer.              It is not incredibly comfortable, but once you sit down, you are hard-pressed to find a reason to rise.  I’ve rocked both my babies on that swing, laughed with friends and family and simply let myself become mesmerized by the water.             I also had my last REAL conversation with my dad on that swing.  He had been diagnosed with cancer and knew he was going to die....

This race is dedicated to my Uncle Bert.  He physically left us last year, but heaven has been thoroughly enjoying having him around.   He freely and often passed through my mind during this race.  I felt as if I had a guardian.  Uncle Bert, this one was for you. The Beast.  Four years ago, Roger talked me into running this crazy race.  All I had to do was run 50 miles during a blizzard.  OMG!  I was hooked.  I loved the people.  The camaraderie.  The challenge. I’ve taken on the Beast several times, and thought it would be my first 100 miler.  The Beast thought differently.  It took me out with a case of kidney stones and a broken spirit.  That probably explains why I was a basket case at the start.  I knew what was in front of me and I didn’t believe that I could do it.  That morning I looked on the website and found my projected finish time.  34 hours.  34 hours????...

       They say that 85% of what you worry about doesn't happen anyway.  So, I am not going to worry about the Beast of Burden 100 that will happen this Saturday.  I'm not going to worry, but I'm going to plan for multiple, possible, scenarios, that may or may not happen.  Semantics are everything.      I don't fear the distance.  The miles don't scare me.  I know how to suffer; how to over come adversity; how to adapt.  What is keeping me up at night (besides images of that crazy chicken silo) is the weather.      Temps are predicted to be freakin' cold.  I'm seeing ranges in the teens and below.  There will be both new snow and several inches of accumulated snow.  Before you ask, no, no one clears the path.  And, it will be windy.  On that course, I know the wind can make or break my day.  There is just no way to get out of it's path.  At least there will be a full moon...

                  I t started innocently enough.  A little red message icon on my Facebook page.  Oh dammit, when those are from Roger, I know I’m in trouble.  He sent me a link to a Hill Repeat From Hell Challenge.  “OMG, he’s totally lost his mind” was my first through tenth thought. He has this horrible/wonderful habit of raising the bar on what I think I can accomplish.   I tried ignoring  the challenge at first, but could not dismiss it.  I knew I would accept.  I always accept such challenges, but, dang it, it wasn’t going to be easy.             The challenge was to do increasing hill repeats over a four-week period ending in 100 hill repeats.  The rules were simple.  You had to complete 25 the first week, 50 the next, followed by 75 and then 100 in the final week.  You had the entire week to complete th...

"Hey Mark, what should I write about the Turkey Trot?"  I asked, as I was struggling to put my thoughts together about this 5 mile race that is not really a race; it's more like a moving carnival with 14,000 people. "Well,"  he said, "You got to run 8 miles by yourself in the morning.  You got all of us to put on stupid costumes.  You got to see your friends on the course.  I could hear you laughing all morning with everyone you were talking to.  You got hysterical comments because you decided to wear a shirt with "Dirty Girl" plastered on the back.  You got to prance around in a tutu and looked good doing it.  And, you beat the boys to the finish line. Why don't you just say it was the perfect start to a perfect day." Well said, Hubs.  But, it was more than that.  It was the perfect ending to a perfect year of running. I am very proud of the work I did in 2012, and other than one non-start in the Buffalo Marathon, I met every goal...

This race report is dictated by Natalie (we call her Lu---long story, don't ask) Today, I did my fourth 5k.  Well, that's not really right, 'cause I did 4 other 5k's in training, so all together, I've done 8 5k's.  One of them was in the rain.  I did NOT like the rain. I ran with my mom.  It was fun.  She would say things like "you are dad, I am pizza, what are you going to do?" Then, I would chase her. This was my best 5k ever, because I never whined.  I beat my record by 15 minutes. Near the end, mom said, "the faster we run, the sooner we'll get to Splash Lagoon!".  So I ran super fast the rest of the way. I left my medal at home, but that's okay, because I LOVE the water park, and I get to stay in a hotel.  I LOVE to stay in hotels. In conclusion, running is fun and I want to be a marathon runner like my mom. And, my brother is annoying.